The Creme De La Creme
by Marshmallows rock
Summary: Hecate Broomhead has returned to Cackle's with the express intention of picking pupils for her college. Whoever is chosen will need to prove their worth. After all, she only takes the creme de la creme . . .
1. Start spreadin' the news

**Hello again. I seem to be on a writing roll at the moment. There are a lot of Mistress Broomhead stories about, and they are all really, truly brilliant, especially HB's Favourite's utterly amazing 'Bellatoxica' but this idea just popped into my head and I needed to get it down. This is my first multi chapter story in years – I was put off them by my early and somewhat abysmal efforts. *blushes* Anyway, I own absolutely hee-haw (apart from The Norton Anthology of Theory And Criticism on which my laptop is resting) and I hope you enjoy.**

**AN2 – Also, even though this is series 3 I'm using Miss Bat instead of Miss Crotchet because Miss Bat is easier to write for me. And if, as I do, you are slightly weird and play out the stories in your head as you read them *blushes again* then this has the original Fenella actress.**

The news that Amelia Cackle had to impart to her staff and her students was not particularly happy. In fact, it was the worst possible news they could have had, and it was especially alarming for the girls in the fourth year. The reactions in the staff room were just as she had predicted – Constance would explode, Imogen would try to keep calm and not quite manage it and Davina would snatch a flower from the vase on the desk and make a beeline for the cupboard.

'Ladies, I have some news to share with you,' Amelia said, trying to sound nonchalant but the expression on her face gave her away. The fear in the room was now tangible.

'We were notified this morning that one of the colleges is coming round to see if they can recruit some of the fourth years in their intake next year.' From the expression on her face, Weirdsister College, the crème de la crème of magical higher education, was obviously not the one coming. The other three were trying to puzzle out why Amelia seemed so scared. She was sad to see the fourth years go every year but never as scared as this.

'Who's coming?' Imogen said from her usual chair.

Amelia swallowed. 'Mistress Broomhead'.

Constance, who never, ever lost her cool, looked up and shouted 'WHAT?', Imogen dropped her sports magazine onto the floor, the colour rapidly draining from her face and Davina, with a terrified squeak, jumped up from her chair, grabbed a flower, managed to knock over the milk jug and (with incredible speed for a woman her age) sprinted across the room and jumped into the stationery cupboard.

Nobody really knew what to say. Finally Imogen managed to overcome the tennis ball that seemed to be blocking her throat. 'Why's she coming? The other colleges just send out prospectuses,' she gulped, her voice shaking.

'The Broomhead College of Witchcraft only accepts the crème de la crème of witches, Miss Drill,' Constance said, in a voice completely devoid of any emotion but still managing to sound a touch exasperated at Imogen not actually knowing that the BCW was the only school on the same plane of prestige as Weirdsister. 'She normally visits all the very top schools and takes the very best pupils. I assume the reason she's never come here before is because until the inspection, Cackle's was considered a failing school.' She trailed off there but nobody motioned her to continue. Somehow, they all knew that the only reason she was coming to Cackle's now was because of Constance. She certainly did not want her former tutor to come and more importantly she did not want her selecting pupils to apply to the College. In the back of her mind she had a horrible suspicion about who might be selected and for once in her life, she desperately hoped she was wrong.

Amelia sighed as she rose and walked over to the cupboard. She knocked on the door and called through it 'Miss Bat? You need to come out now, we need to have a meeting.'

With her hair even more wild than it had been before she went into it, Davina exited the cupboard on the condition that she was allowed to bring her bear out for comfort. Constance rolled her eyes but for once said nothing and Imogen had to fight down a laugh when she saw that Davina was carrying a Paddington Bear, complete with wellington boots and duffle coat. Given her experience last time Hecate Broomhead had turned up, Davina was very keen to keep out of her way.

'I think what we have to do is say to the girls. If any of them see Mistress Broomhead just suddenly turning up it might cause a slight panic, and that's the last thing we need,' Amelia said, offering the biscuit tin round as though they were merely discussing the class reports.

'Does that seem fair?' She looked round at her staff. Imogen and Davina nodded. Constance, though very pale, managed to speak in a reasonably steady voice. 'They need a warning. The girls have got to have a warning.'

So a meeting was called in the Great Hall immediately and as the girls began to file in, there were rumours flying around already.

'I wonder what this is all about?' Maud whispered as the third year girls sat down in their usual places.

'I hope it's not another anti technology lecture,' Ruby sighed, remembering her involvement the last time there was an assembly on this.

Enid's eyes gleamed wickedly. 'Maybe it's a safe sex lecture!'

'Enid!' Jadu and Mildred exclaimed at the same time.

'What?' she said, looking as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

The teachers' arrival on the platform put an end to any speculation but the grim looks on their faces were enough to send whispers rocketing round the room again.

Miss Hardbroom stepped forward. 'If anybody would like to hand in to me three hundred lines of 'Whispering in assembly is rude, juvenile and not befitting to the manner of well brought up girls' tomorrow morning then please feel free to keep talking.' The noise died instantly. With a satisfied look on her face, Miss Hardbroom stepped back and Miss Cackle took over. She cleared her throat. 'Girls, we received notice this morning from a college who are sending their headmistress to speak to the fourth years about next year. I feel we should all know that it is Mistress Hecate Broomhead, who I am sure you remember, who is coming to recruit pupils for the Broomhead College of Witchcraft.'

The first years, having not witnessed Mistress Broomhead last year, looked puzzled, the second and third years apprehensive and the fourth years, Miss Cackle noted with a pang, downright worried. She suppressed a sigh. The sooner this visit was all over, the better.

**See that little thing down there that says 'Review'? Go on and hit it. You know you want to. I'll have the next chapter up in a few days. Until then, enjoy the snow! *Insert hollow laughter here***


	2. The visitors

**I've been boosted by a lovely review from NextChristineDaae to get the next chapter up. Enjoy this installment! I really need a better title. Sigh.**

Almost as soon as the girls went back to class, they started chattering. Why on earth would Mistress Broomhead be coming to them? There was more than a bit of apprehension – if somebody like Miss Hardbroom was scared at the mere mention of Mistress Broomhead's name, they now all had permission to panic.

'But why though?' Fenella wondered out loud as they collected their things for double PE and headed off to the changing rooms.

'Why what?' Griselda said, walking next to her.

'Why does she scare HB like that? I mean, I know whatever she did to her had to be bad but how bad could it be?' Fenella looked thoughtful.

'And what on earth could she want with us?' Griselda added, taking up Fenella's line of thought in a way that the staff found very disconcerting.

Imogen was waiting for her class. She guessed, correctly, that they were quite shaken by this news, and out of compassion, decided to cancel the cross country run.

'All right, girls,' she announced as they filed into the hall. 'We've got a change of plan today, so no cross country run. We'll be on the gymnastics apparatus instead!' She smiled as excited expressions lit up every face. Two hours of physical activity was much better spent bouncing around and being upside down than running through the woods.

Fenny and Gris came over to her as Frank Blossom was bringing the apparatus in. 'Thanks Miss Drill!' the two girls chorused. Imogen smiled. She had a feeling the blonde and the brunette knew exactly why there was a change of plan.

At lunchtime, Imogen returned to the staffroom in a very good mood. Given the stellar performance of the fourth years in gymnastics (including one girl doing a triple back flip)

she had decided to try it out with the rest of the school. However, one look at the faces of her colleagues and she felt her good mood evaporate instantly. Amelia had just finished reading out a letter to Constance and Davina, who both looked rather grave.

'What's the matter?' she asked, reaching for a bowl of salad.

'It's from Mistress Broomhead,' Amelia said, looking up. 'She wants files prepared on all the girls with all their grades since first year and she wants it done before she arrives the day after tomorrow.'

'But why?' Davina puzzled, adding her usual eight sugars and a dandelion to her tea. 'Why is it all so important.'

Constance heaved a sigh. 'Davina, have you ever wondered why the Broomhead College of Witchcraft school motto is _Bonus, Melior, Optimus?'_

Davina looked completely baffled. 'No. I never did Latin. Strange language. Now, Mongolian, that's a good language for-'

Constance cut her off, with the impatient tone she usually used when Davina or Imogen were being (she felt) particularly dimwitted. 'It means 'Good, Better, Best'. Mistress Broomhead is relentless and demanding and coming under her tutelage comes at a very heavy price. And if you are accepted to her college, it's an order, not an option.'

The other women looked up. This was the closest Constance had ever come to discussing exactly what sacrifices she had made to become so accomplished in her craft. It was taken for granted that whatever had happened was nothing short of traumatic but nobody ever knew what it was.

Davina opened her mouth to say something, but Imogen cut her off. 'In that case, Miss Cackle, I'll get the fourth year PE marks to you today.'

'Thank you, Imogen. Davina, I'll need yours as well,' Amelia mumbled distractedly, pouring hot water into her tea cup.

'Forgive me, Amelia, but Davina's may have to wait. Were you or were you not on lunchtime duty today, Davina?' Constance demanded, having just caught sight of the wall rota.

'Oh, toadstools and treefrogs! They'll be dancing on the tables!' Davina wailed, jumping up.Imogen stifled a laugh. Stressful situation or not, Davina would aways be Davina and Constance would always be Constance.

When Mistress Broomhead arrived on Thursday morning, the tension in the air was palpable. The fourth years had all decided, out of loyalty to Miss Hardbroom, that they would all be on their best behaviour, and even Fenella and Griselda had made a silent pact that best behaviour was the order of the day.

Mistress Broomhead, after her usual insults by way of morning greeting, was now sitting in Miss Cackle's chair reading the fourth year files with a pen in her hand, scribbling occasionally and muttering to herself 'Not good enough...a B in potions, nowhere near qualified...I wouldn't have even considered passing this' and watched nervously by Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom. Neither woman could say a word. The torture went on for nearly three quarters of an hour.

Constance was not a religious woman but she was inwardly, silently praying. _Please don't let her find anyone good enough. Especially not them. It might damage the school's academic reputation but that's a small price for them to be as happy as they are now. Please._

There was a hope her prayer would come true, as Hecate Broomhead's standards were notoriously high. But equally there were a few talented girls in that year. Very talented girls.

Finally, Mistress Broomhead put the last file aside.

'Miss Cackle. For such an establisment, these girls are nowhere near qualified enough. Their marks are abysmal and I cannot – I would not even consider accepting them into the Broomhead College of Witchcraft!'

Constance let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

'But-'

Her heart jumped from her chest to her mouth, beating a hundred times its normal rate. She had seen the names on the files Broomhead had set apart from the others. _No. Please, no._

'There are two girls here who seem to be absolutely outstanding in every way. Clearly the brightest of the bunch. Miss Hardbroom, would you go and collect them for me?'

As composedly as she could, Constance rose from her chair and out of the room. Miss Cackle bent forward to look at the files and gasped.

The names on the two selected files read _Fenella Valerie Feverview _and _Griselda Lesley Blackwood_.

**Eeee! What's going to happen to the school's dancing queens? There's only one way to find out. . .**

**Also, sorry about the Latin but I'm studying it at university and I couldn't resist.**

**And for those of you who recognise Davina's line, I was watching 'A Pig in a Poke' just before I wrote this chapter and I've always found that line very funny. No idea why.**


	3. No way out

**Now things are heating up! Enjoy! I don't own the characters or the lyrics to Dancing Queen – they belong to the geniuses that are Mr Bjorn Ulvaeus and Mr Benny Andersson.**

Constance's face was pale with worry as she set off in search of Fenella and Griselda. She usually took pride in being continually right but now it had come back to bite her. Of all the very talented fourth year class, it was going to be those two who would attract Broomhead's attention. And she had known it. They were certainly the most mischievous witches to ever set foot in the academy, but they were also two of the cleverest.

However, she was momentarily distracted from her worry by the most appalling racket from the chanting classroom, which could be heard at the other end of the corridor. With the primary thought in her mind now being _Heaven preserve us_; she strode down towards the classroom.

'WHAT ON EARTH IS THIS GHASTLY NOISE?' she shouted, banging the door open.

Miss Bat had quite clearly being trying her hand at some new music. Fenella and Griselda were trying out a new dance to it, cheered on by the rest of the class and the noise was quite incredible. Of course, Davina wasn't fazed.

'Ah, Constance, how lovely to see you!' she chirruped, jumping up from the piano. 'Have you come to see a preview of our performance?'

'I would hardly call it a performance in the conventional sense, Davina. A small child with a toy drum and no sense of rhythm makes the same amount of noise but it cannot be called a performance,' Constance said, coldly, striding over to the piano and picking up the music book in two fingers. _'ABBA Gold_', she said, looking at the front cover in utter disgust. 'Is that the wailing and gyrating Scandinavian group?'

'They're a very good group! And such fun to dance to – _yoooou can dance, yooou can jive_-'

'Well, I would prefer not to see any dancing or jiving done while I am in the building. And I need to borrow Fenella and Griselda for a moment. Mistress Broomhead would like to see them.'

The atmosphere changed. The party vibe suddenly vanished. The two witches looked at each other with apprehension and Miss Bat immediately stopped singing_ Dancing Queen_ several octaves higher than it needed to be. 'You'd better go, girls,' she said quietly.

**XXXXXX**

'Here are the girls, Mistress Broomhead,' Miss Hardbroom said, opening the door as the bell went for lunchtime. 'This is Fenella and this is Griselda.'

'Thank you, Constance,' Hecate said, not even looking up. 'And if you and Miss Cackle could now leave us in peace.'

Amelia started to protest about being thrown out of her own office but Constance dragged her backwards out of the room just as Davina and Imogen arrived.

'What's happened?' Imogen gasped. She had been waylaid by the chanting teacher (in a state of nervousness) and the pair of them had run along to the office. 'Why does she want us out here? Is it so we can't hear anything?'

'Indeed it is. But there is a simple way round it.' Constance muttered a spell under her breath and five seconds later they could hear every word of the conversation inside the room.

'I thought you'd banned that spell!' Imogen protested but at the same time trying not to smile.

'It's an emergency situation, Miss Drill. I believe the common vernacular is 'desperate times call for desperate measures'. Now will you be quiet?'

Inside the office, Fenella and Griselda were standing in front of the desk and looking nervous. They suddenly felt way out of their depth in the office, which had lost its usual quasi-maternal vibe and instead had become something akin to a gladiatorial arena. Griselda moved over slightly so that she was standing right next to Fenella, who got it immediately. The only way they would come out victorious was if they stuck together. Finally, Mistress Broomhead looked up.

'So girls, I suppose you want to know why you're here?' she said, attempting to sound friendly and not quite managing it.

'Yes, Mistress Broomhead,' they chorused, sensing that formal manners were very much the requirement.

'I have been looking at your records and I am considering offering you two a place at the Broomhead College of Witchcraft when you graduate. Of course, you will need to undergo some tests to prove you can keep up. Our motto is _Bonus, Melior, Optimus_, which means 'Good, Better, Best'. We are a very prestigious college, girls, and we only take the best.'

Fenella squirmed slightly – she had never been good at dealing with arrogant people. Griselda spoke up.

'That's very kind of you, Mistress Broomhead, but we've just had our letters back from Weirdsister College, and we were both planning on going there.'

'Both of you?' Hecate was quite surprised.

Fenella found her voice. 'Yes. We've both applied for charms and potions. Weirdsister is quite close to where we live already so it seemed ideal.'

'My, my! Such loyalty! Loyalty is something we value very highly. But, girls, I do not think you understand the opportunity I am offering you. I will be putting you both through some very rigorous tests and then I shall let you make your minds up.'

The girls looked at each other. They were trapped and they knew it. But it didn't mean they wouldn't try to find a way out.

**XXXXX**

Out in the corridor, nobody spoke. There was a chance Fenella and Griselda would see right through it – they were very shrewd girls. But the woman was tricky to deal with and easy to infuriate.

Constance was trying to predict the moves Hecate would make, and on the verge of losing patience with Davina whispering silent encouragement to them through the door. She was just about to protest against it, when she heard 'loyalty.' And her heart sank.

'What is it, Constance?' Amelia's voice was slightly hoarse.

'She's started mentioning loyalty! She's insane about it – having the loyalty of her staff and students. It gives her power.' Constance sounded shockingly close to tears, remembering the punishments of any student brave enough to speak out against the school. She herself had suffered one early in her school career – a shelf in Broomhead's office was immediately depuffified and the broken glass bottles had flown straight at her. There were still scars on her back from this incident.

Imogen, the only one still listening to the goings on in the office, suddenly jumped. 'Oh my God, what's happened? '. The other teachers turned quickly back round at the sound of a crash and screams.

From the sounds in the office, something quite unpleasant had happened.

'Mistress Broomhead,' Fenella had said tentatively, 'we're very flattered that you chose us but really, we've already been accepted for Weirdsister and that's our first choice!'

'Miss Feverview as an incoming student of my school, your loyalty is due to it!'

'But we didn't say that we would come! Can we please think about it?' Griselda pleaded, suddenly quite scared.

Hecate was angry now. They looked as if they could be excellent pupils but they needed to learn to apply themselves. 'I think you need a lesson in the importance of devotion, girls.'

Before either of them had time to move, she pointed at the grandfather clock in the corner, which suddenly splintered into pieces, sending the cogs flying at Fenella and the glass covering the clock face at Griselda. Both girls screamed in pain as the metal and glass attacked them.

'ENOUGH.'

And suddenly, it was all over. The clock had repaired itself. The only difference was that their shirt sleeves and pinafores were ripped, Fenella was covered in scratches and Griselda had several cuts to her arms.

'You can go, girls. The tests shall begin tomorrow morning.'

Holding it together as best they could, the girls walked shakily out of the office, and off to their rooms. Miss Hardbroom had managed to cast an invisibility spell just in time so they weren't spotted. Her face was grim.

'We have to do something,' she said, to her colleagues, who sounded appalled at the sounds from the office. 'Anything. Anything is better than what she has the potential to do to those two.'

**Hope you enjoyed that! When I was writing this, I was thinking of Miss McKay in 'The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie' and her loyalty speeches. Quite fun to write actually. We'll find out soon what she has in store for Fenny and Gris . . . **


	4. We're soaring, flying

**Hope you're all enjoying this so far! And thank you so much NCD and HB's Favourite for their lovely reviews. You can have cookies!**

'What are we going to do, Fenny?' Griselda sighed, pressing damp paper towels against her bleeding arms. 'I'm going to look like a self harm victim.'

'Should we ask Miss Hardbroom what sort of stuff we'll be tested on?' Fenella said, resting her head on the mirror. She looked very pale. 'She's relentless, this woman.'

'Why will she not take no for an answer? That's what I don't like.'

'Shall we go and grab some dinner? It might be best not to think about it until tomorrow,' the brunette girl mused.

They walked out of the bathroom and down to the dining room, where the rest of the school immediately noticed the battle scars on their arms and their more than usually subdued manner. Whispers travelled quickly round the room, fueled by the fact that instead of sitting at their usual table the two fourth years sat apart from the rest of the girls, and sat whispering to each other during the whole meal long. Miss Drill, on supervisory duties slid quietly over to them.

'Are you all right, you two?' she asked them very quietly.

They both nodded. 'Just a bit tired, Miss Drill,' Griselda said quietly.

Imogen could see that something was definitely not right but she had no idea on how to go about finding out what is was. She knew someone who would, though.

**XXXXX**

Every year since their first year half term, Fenella and Griselda managed to smuggle back to school a battery powered music player, plenty of batteries and cassettes of all their favourite music. Any time they had had a stressful day, or were just feeling a bit down, they would set up the cassette player and dance away.

'What shall we have this time?' Fenella's voice was muffled as she pulled the shoebox out from under her bed.

'I think maybe the Spice Girls,' Griselda decided, switching the cassette player on, just as they heard a knock at the door and a crisp 'Fenella? Are you there?'

'It's Hardbroom!' Fenella hissed, as if it wasn't blindingly obvious. Quickly, she kicked the shoebox back under the bed and Griselda hid the cassette player under the pillow, just as Miss Hardbroom entered the room. Expecting a telling off, the two were stunned to see that their potions teacher looked...well, scared.

'Girls, I need to talk to you about Mistress Broomhead. She is egocentric, calculating, and incredibly relentless. But she does know talent when she sees it. So don't try and pretend to fail the tests, or you will pay for it.'

'What is she going to ask us to do?' Griselda gulped. They didn't like the sound of that.

Constance looked at the two scared faces before her. And made a split second decision to lie.

'I don't know. But I highly recommend you be on your guard at all times,' she lied, deciding to overlook the cassette player shaped lump in the pillow. And as if they had merely been told they were getting detention for blowing something up, she disappeared into thin air.

While Fenella and Griselda looked nervously at each other, before setting the cassette up for 'Who Do You Think You Are?', Constance appeared in the staffroom with the other teachers, and shocked the others by bursting into tears.

**XXXXX**

'What's the matter, Constance?' Amelia cried, stunned by the sight of the unflappable deputy head of the school sitting with her head in her hands and sobbing. To their credit, the other members of staff recovered remarkably quickly. Imogen made a cup of tea which Davina 'improved' by upending the sugar bowl into it. This at least had the effect of causing Constance to recover long enough to say that, while she appreciated the sentiment, 'adding a full bag of sugar to a cup of tea renders it inpalatable and quite frankly disgusting.' While this might normally have caused Davina to lock herself in the cupboard, she merely grinned and skipped back to her knitting – a lopsided jumper for Paddington.

'Is this to do with Broomhead?' Imogen said, leaning across the table.

'_Mistress _Broomhead, Miss Drill and yes, it is. In a way. It concerns Fenella and Griselda and those tests she's going to put them through.'

'Such as?'

So she told them.

'No way!' Imogen gulped hoarsely. 'No way!'

'Those methods are barbaric! They've been outlawed by the Witches' Guild for years!' Amelia frowned as she tried to remember.

'Toadstools and treefrogs!' Davina wailed, accidentally knitting an extra leg on the jumper.

'Can't anyone stop her?' the PE teacher implored.

Constance looked up irritably. 'If there was a way to do it, Miss Drill, I would do it in a second. But that woman has power – it's fear. Nobody would believe anyone who complained and even if you were brave enough, she would punish you for it! And she is very creative when it comes to punishment! She's a powerful enough witch to pull the wool over everyone's eyes!'

Nobody really knew what to say.

**XXXXX**

The appearance of several feet of snow overnight the next morning produced excitement (at a weekend full of snow) and trepidation (at the thought of a cross country run in this weather) in equal measure among the students. But for Fenella, the whole castle could have fallen down around her ears and it wouldn't have made the slightest bit of difference – she wouldn't have noticed. Not because it was already going that way anyway but because of the day ahead. And judging from her face, Griselda felt exactly the same.

Immediately after breakfast, as they had been told, they went to the Potions classroom.

'Come in girls!' They jumped at the sight of Mistress Broomhead sitting at Miss Hardbroom's desk.

'Don't dawdle. Now, I assume neither of you have made this potion before?' She indicated at the blackboard, which suddenly had instructions for what looked like a very difficult potion appear on it. 'The Fugendum Potion? It allows the drinker to fly?'

'No Mistress Broomhead.' They had heard of it, certainly. It was a legendary potion, notorious for its difficulty in making and unreliability. In Cackles, it was also well known as being on _'A List Of Fourteen Potions That Are Potentially Life Threatening And Brewing Them Before Fourth Year Or Otherwise Instructed Means Instant Expulsion' _that was one of the first things Miss Hardbroom made every first year class learn almost as soon as they arrived.

'Well then, get to work! I'll be back soon!'

She didn't come back until they were nearly done, and the potion took most of the morning, giving the girls nearly two hours to themselves.

'Why the hell does she want this? What's it for?' Griselda wailed, tipping some carefully shredded dandelion roots into the cauldron and watched its contents turn pink.

'I think the mask is slipping,' Fenella observed casually. 'She keeps trying to be friendly and she keeps not managing it.'

They didn't really talk much after that. When the potion was the opaque orange colour described in the book, Hecate came back.

'That looks quite all right girls – well done! It's very complicated, the Fugendum Potion. Very easy to get wrong. Now, leave it for a few hours and go and have some lunch and come back to the great hall at four o'clock.

Later that afternoon, the two girls appeared in the hall as requested.

'I hope you've done your protection charm, girls. You're going to need it!'

Why was she smiling? Griselda felt a ball of fear drop into her stomach, and Fenella looked on the verge of a panic attack.

'Come and stand over here.' They went into the centre of the room. Hecate barely gave them time to cast the charm, as she shot a blaze of green light straight at them.

**All reviewers get a cookie! We love the lovely cookies!**


	5. How to save a life

**Things really start to step up in this chapter. Please don't hate me for torturing Fenny and Gris . . .**

The spell was nothing like they had ever experienced before.

Every single inch of Griselda's body felt as though it was on fire, things were closing in on her, voices, screaming, anger, capturing her up, twisting and turning her until the blonde didn't know where she was anymore. Without warning she was back in the hospital the day her uncle died when she was twelve, his face covered in scars from the car accident, hooked up to a hundred beeping machines, a tube in his nose and the smell of hospital disinfectant everywhere, in every fibre of her clothing...

Fenella was faring no better – the charm seemed to have no power against the horrendous spell of Mistress Broomhead's. She didn't know how long the agony went on for – far too long in her opinion. She felt trapped, as if in a vortex, she was hearing voices, voices she hadn't heard for years – her father yelling, her mother screaming curses, their cat Jason hissing as he ran for the safety of the kitchen, and her own six year old sobs as she hid behind the couch, willing her parents to stop, wishing Mummy didn't drink that red stuff which made her shout and scream and tell Fenella she should never have been born...

'Stop!' Fenella screamed, almost at the exact same moment Griselda did. But through their agonies, all they could hear was her booming voice 'THE CHARM HAS NOT DONE ITS WORK YET.' How could she be so calm? Both girls were struggling badly, feeling themselves grow weaker and screaming blue murder.

And then, suddenly, the charm worked. At once the agony and the burning and the memory and the torture all ceased. The two girls fell to the floor, breathing hard, sweating and with tears streaming from their eyes.

Mistress Broomhead was absolutely beside herself with delight! They had fought! They had resisted, eventually, it was true but it had been done. These two girls were the very finest pupils she had seen in a long time, maybe even since Constance Hardbroom . . .

She approached them, holding two cups of Reviving Potion.

'Well done, girls! I am absolutely astounded at how well you coped! You will make very fine additions to the academy indeed. Now, we're going to test the Fugendum Potion. Drink this up and you'll feel the better for it. I'll give you a moment or two.'

Griselda drank the steaming purple liquid down in one and felt some of her energy return. She sat up, very shakily. Her hair slide had fallen out and her back was soaked with sweat. But surely she was just imagining that smell of disinfectant? Fenella was just coming back round – she looked horrendous. Her face was ghastly white, her chestnut ponytail had fallen loose and her hands were shaking like mad.

'Oh my God, Fenny, are you ok?'

Fenella looked straight into Griselda's concerned blue eyes and felt her own well up with tears. She never cried, what was wrong with her? In an instant Griselda snatched the beaker from her hand and tipped the scalding potion down her friend's throat. It made her cough and splutter but she felt marginally better. She had no sooner swallowed it than Mistress Broomhead returned. She looked displeased.

'The potion has congealed slightly – it could lose all its effectiveness! And we wouldn't want that for this next test. This is the last one of the day.'

Fenella and Griselda each swallowed the now tangerine concoction and followed Mistress Broomhead out of the hall and up various flights of stairs.

'Where are we going?' Fenella coughed. She had really been weakened in the hall and was worried – she needed to keep her wits and her strength about her.

Hecate stopped dead, turned around and smiled.

'We're going up to the tallest tower. We're going to test the Fugendum potion from up here.'

Luckily, she didn't hear the slight gasp of a witch who had dropped her pencil case on the way back from Myths and Legends and had ducked into the shadows when Mistress Broomhead appeared. Luckily she didn't hear the thuds of someone running full pelt down the corridor.

**XXXXX**

'Miss Hardbroom! Miss Hardbroom!' Mildred half screamed, banging the staffroom door, which flung open at once.

'MILDRED HUBBLE, WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOU'RE-' but Constance was cut off by the quite frankly terrified look on Mildred's face.

'Mistress Broomhead is planning to test a Fugendum potion on Fenny and Gris from Kilda's Peak!' Mildred burst out, panting heavily.

'Jesus Christ!' Imogen jumped up from her seat – even she knew how dangerous it was. Amelia abandoned her scone and Davina made a beeline for the cupboard in a state of terror but was stopped by Imogen. Constance however, did not move. She seemed to be undergoing some painful internal struggle – Fenella and Griselda against her own terror of Mistress Broomhead.

'They're clever girls, they'll have made it right! And she won't want to kill them, she's desperate to get them into the BCW!'

Imogen, slamming both hands down onto the table, lost her temper. 'I am sick to death of you offering those two up as lambs to the slaughter, Miss Hardbroom! I understand you're scared but what can she do to you? It's those two you should be concerned with! They're sixteen! You must do something or she probably will kill them!'

Amelia looked stunned, and Davina was standing with her arm around Mildred, tears streaming down her cheeks and completely forgotten in the chaos. For one moment it seemed as if Constance was going to knock Imogen into the middle of next week, but she stunned them all by saying 'Kilda's Peak, did you say, Mildred?'

Mercifully, it was only one floor along from the staffroom but getting there was slightly difficult, as they were being waylaid by girls from every year who by now had seen the trio up on the roof. Constance shouted at them all to clear a path and the other four followed her, up the ankle twisting stairs to the roof of Kilda's Peak. Kilda's was an old dilapidated part of the castle that nobody went into (named in the 18th century when the charms teacher visited the Isle of St Kilda, past the Outer Hebrides). Kilda's Peak was the school's highest point and high enough to give a vertigo sufferer nightmares just from the thought of it.

The roof was like an ice rink and the girls were clinging onto the roof spires as Mistress Broomhead levitated in front of them.

'HECATE BROOMHEAD, RELEASE THOSE GIRLS AT ONCE!' Constance bellowed, sticking her head out of the window immediately below the roof and earning herself a resounding cheer from below. Hecate simply cast a blocking spell so that Constance could see out but not stick her head out, speaking to Fenella and Griselda instead.

'Jump. It's the only way to test the Fugendum,' she said, simply.

Griselda looked down for a minute and hastily looked back up. The ground was barely visible in the darkness of the night, and however deep the snow was, it was not going to be much of a help in breaking their fall if the potion didn't work.

'Are you mad?' Fenella cried, gaining some of her strength back.

'Miss Feverview -'

'We're not doing it!' Griselda agreed, 'We're going to Weirdsister!'

'JUMP!' Hecate bellowed.

'NO!' the girls shouted back. It was dark and slippery and there was a blizzard starting and they were scared. The whole school had flocked to the windows and were watching in horror. The teachers were watching but unable to do anything; Constance was firing every spell she knew at the blockage with no success and Mildred was sobbing silently into Miss Drill's shoulder.

'Well, if you don't jump, you'll have to be pushed.'

Hecate's voice came from behind them, and then they felt her give them a small but forceful push. As there was a collective scream from the watching girls and Miss Bat fainted,

Griselda felt her feet slide out from under her. As though on a ski jump, she and Fenella shot down the roof at lightning speed and into thin air, and, grabbing hands as they did so, plummeted down to the snow covered courtyard one hundred and twenty two feet below . . .

**I know, I know, I'm evil. I won't leave you all in suspense for too long! And now I have to depart for a Latin exam this afternoon. Vale!**


	6. Every now and then I fall apart

**Hello and late festive greetings to us all! Apologies for the unprecedented delay – my laptop charger died the week before Christmas and I couldn't get a new one until today. Ergo no access to this, which was already typed out and everything! So if you've been wondering where I rather unceremoniously buggered off to, wonder no more!**

**And this one is angst ahoy. Consider that your warning. **

Fugendum had worked of course, at the last second. When they were just five feet off the ground, they had suddenly come to a total stop before floating as if airless down to the ground, still hand in hand. The whole school breathed a collective sigh of relief. Constance had broken through the barrier just as they had come to a stop but Mistress Broomhead had vanished before they had time to do anything. Anyway, the primary concern had been for the two fourth years, sitting and clinging to each other in the courtyard as the blizzard raged on.

That had been nearly an hour before. Constance and Amelia had (after tending to Miss Bat) gone down to help the girls up to their rooms, Imogen and Frank had shephered the shocked student body back to the dormitories and Mrs Tapioca had had the brainwave of making enough hot chocolate for the school, as a way of getting over the shock.

But now, Fenella lay curled up in a ball on her bed, and crying harder than she'd ever cried in her life, her mug of hot chocolate forgotten. Griselda had temporarily gone back to her room to get a hot water bottle (the castle was still freezing) and she'd held it together all that time but broke into distraught sobs the instant Griselda vanished. She was crying so hard that the bed was shaking and she just couldn't stop. Fenella Feverview never, ever cried, but she couldn't help herself this time, all the emotions and torture of the last few days pouring out uncontrollably.

At just that moment, the door creaked open, though she didn't look up. In an instant, there were two thuds as Griselda kicked her boots off and then suddenly she was lying in the warm circle of her best friend's arms, still sobbing.

'It's all right, Fen, it's ok,' Griselda soothed, though she was crying as well. Truth be told she was very worried about Fenny. Usually so full of life and cheerful, she seemed so vulnerable now, and on the brink of the metaphorical abyss.

'What did you see when she put that curse on us?' Fenella whispered hoarsely.

Griselda gulped and felt the tears come faster and faster. 'My...my uncle. In hospital. When he-' she sobbed, unable to go on. Fenella remembered Miss Cackle coming to find Griselda just before their first year exams and taking her out of class to be told that her uncle had been in a horrendous car accident and was not expected to live much longer. Griselda had come back into the potions lab, white faced and quickly gathered up her things. The class had known something was wrong when Miss Hardbroom had raised no protest and had excused Fenella to go upstairs with her and help her pack some things quickly before her mother came. The week and a half that she was gone felt ten times as long without the cheerful blonde girl who had become her best friend even before they'd gone through Walker's Gate on their first day. Her uncle's death had hit her very hard and yet she still carried on, managing to score an A for her overall exam marks.

'I never told you, but it was you that got me through that when I came back,' Griselda whispered into Fenella's hair. 'I couldn't have done it without you.' Fenella didn't say anything but Griselda felt her grip on her back tighten.

'I saw the night my mum left, Grizzy,' Fenella gulped as the tears started streaming again. 'When she and my dad were screeching at each other and Jason was running out of the room and I was hiding behind the kitchen and my mum was throwing plates...'

She trailed off, her thin frame shaking with the force of her sobs. Griselda just held her, cried with her, stroked her hair and listened. It seemed a dam had burst inside of Fenella and a torrent of emotions she had stored up for nearly ten years burst forth. She already knew the basic story. Fenella's mother had quite a temper on her, which was easily set off. When Fenella was about five, she started drinking – not enough to be considered an alcoholic but she often drank if she was in a bad mood. One winter's night, when Fenella was six, her mother had let loose at her father and it had culminated in the worst fight they ever had. Her father had begged his wife to consider the fact that their daughter was in the room and hiding behind the safety of the sofa but she had merely screeched that Fenella was a waste of space who should never have been born before storming out into the night and not returning. When she had left Fenella's clearest memory of that night was her father picking her up from behind the sofa and soothing her crying as they sat on the sofa together, he crying as much as she was. They had fallen asleep there (as had Jason when he realised there would be no more plates thrown at him).

The end was happier. Just under two years later, her father had remarried, with Fenella as bridesmaid. She absolutely adored her stepmother and had adjusted well to the change.

Only once in the ten year interim had Fenella set eyes on her mother, and that had been at the end of their third year, at an Advanced Magic Convention.

**XXXXX**

_'Wow, Grizzy, this is amazing!' Fenella whispered, as they walked into the hall where the convention was being held. All sorts of demonstrations were going on and girls could sign up for the workshops taking place later that day._

_Fenella and Griselda were like two children in a sweet shop – they didn't know where to begin. This was the sort of thing that was right up their street, as Miss Cackle had remarked to Miss Hardbroom, who had actually half smiled at the sight of the two girls standing completely amazed by all the magic surrounding them._

_In the end, they had decided on Self-Transfiguration first, and at the stall, they had watched two witches, one obviously pregnant transforming themselves into all sorts of animals. They had agreed to ask about that one, and just as they approached the counter, they had heard the pregnant woman talking to a friend. _

_'Oh yes, five months gone now, I can't believe it!' she was saying. 'Seems to fly by. This will be my third. Well, fourth if you count my first marriage.'_

_'Have you been in contact with your daughter at all?' her friend asked her._

_'I haven't had any contact since I left. I quite regret that now.' Why on earth did that voice sound a bit like Fenny's, Griselda wondered._

_Just then, the pregnant witch turned round and smiled at the two girls, taking her hat off as she did so. Fenella gasped and clapped her hands to her mouth, realising who this woman was. _

_'Mum?'_

_With her hat off, the woman was Fenella's double. Same eyes, same cheekbones, same hair colour. 'Fenella! Oh my God! What are you doing here?'_

_'I'm at Cackles. I was going to sign up for this, but I don't think I'll bother now!' And with that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the hall, Griselda after her. They had no idea that Miss Hardbroom was watching the whole scene_

_They were sitting on a bench outside in the cloisters when Fenella's mother turned up. 'Fenny-'_

_'Don't call me that!' The girl's voice was harsh and brittle. _

_'Look, sweetheart, I had no idea you were going to be here today. Please let me explain.' She seemed not to care that Griselda was sitting there, arm tightly wound around her friend's shoulders and when nobody responded, she continued. _

_'I married your father too young, darling, and I was suffering from depression by the time you were little. When I started drinking I knew it was a bad idea but it was the only way I knew how to cope. I just lost control that night.' _

_'You married again?' Fenella said, not even looking at her mother. The woman nodded. 'Fenella, believe me, I always regretted leaving you and your father like that, and not getting in touch.'_

_'Do you expect me to believe that?' Fenella spat. 'You said I was a waste of space, do you honestly think all will be forgiven just like that? I don't ever want to see you again!'_

**XXXXX**

That had been the only time that Fenella had cried like she was now. In the end, they had both had a wonderful time, although they got a bit of a fright when Miss Hardbroom had waylaid them as they came back in and told them they were signed up for the two workshops they were keen to go to. She had been rewarded by a full two weeks of good behaviour when they got back. As they grew more tired from crying, but calmer, they talked and talked until it was a struggle to keep their eyes open. In the end, they both gave in to the irresistible sleep.

Meanwhile, down in the staffroom, Constance was sitting alone when Imogen came in, looking both exhausted and shamefaced and clutching two mugs of hot chocolate.

'That's everyone in bed, armed with hot chocolate,' she sighed, flopping down into a chair and pushing a mug towards Constance. 'And Davina was revived with a chrysanthemum or two.'

Constance rolled her eyes at the last statement when Imogen spoke again.

'Look, I owe you a huge apology,' she said, blushing but looking the taller woman straight in the eye. 'I shouldn't have lost it like that and I know you would protect Fenella and Griselda. It's just, I can't understand why you let her get to you.'

Admiring the PE teacher for both her honesty and her ability to admit she was wrong, Constance said 'Unless you have been put through those tests, Miss Drill, you have really no idea of how they will stay with you. I imagine that getting those two to talk about it will be very difficult indeed. She puts you through pain and terror like you have never known and forces you to live your worst nightmares. The only real way of coping is not to think about them at all. And the sight of her can bring it all back again. You have no idea how awful it is. I suppose I envy you for that.'

'Really?' Imogen said, completely amazed. 'She makes Miss Pike sound kind and sensitive. I'm going to go and check on the girls.' She stood up and stretched, thinking gratefully of her own bed.

'Miss Drill?'

She stuck her head back round the staffroom door.

'Apology accepted.'

Resisting the urge to cartwheel down the corridor, Imogen smiled to herself as she went quietly up the stairs. She stuck her head round Griselda's door, and upon finding nobody in there (she hadn't expected that they would stay apart) went next door to Fenella's.

Mrs Tapioca had said that she had put a potion for dreamless sleep into both girls' drinks and it showed. They were curled up together on the small bed, still in their uniforms, boots kicked off in a corner, feet on the pillow and wrapped in a blanket. Griselda's arm was wrapped tightly around Fenella who was snuggled up against her chest. Brown hair intermingled with blonde as they slept and they looked (for the first time all day) the very epitome of piece.

Not wanting to disturb them, Imogen slipped quietly out of the room.

**XXXXX**

***Sniffs* Haven't written so much angst for a long time. Hope it was all right! But they aren't out of the woods just yet . . .**

**And for getting this far, here's a useless little piece of trivia – the scene of Fenella crying and being comforted by Griselda was what first inspired me to write this story in the first place. **


	7. Come to take me, come to break me

**Well, after all that angst, we're back in the action now! Or at least, heading towards it. And whilst we're on the subject, I recommend that you listen to ABBA's 'The Visitors' with this chapter. The music will hopefully give you a sense of the emotions and fear surrounding this one.**

**XXXXX**

The whole school rose late the next morning. Miss Bat was not seen until after half past ten and even Miss Hardbroom was asleep until after eight o'clock. The students were all desperate to get out into the snow and by lunchtime, there was a full army of snowmen in one corner of the courtyard, snow angels were covering the ground, there was a patch of igloos like little mushrooms, a huge slide of snow from one of the castle windows down to the broom shed roof and goodness knows how many snowball fights occurring.

When Fenella woke up, she took one look in the mirror on the wall and burst out laughing.

'Wassamarra?' Griselda yawned, prising her eyes open.

'Look at the state of us, Grizzy!' Fenella grinned, indicating the mirror. They both looked completely and utterly dishevilled.

Griselda sat up and stretched, looking over at Fenella. 'Are you OK, Fenny?'

'Yeah, I'm OK. Listen, thanks for listening to me talking so much rubbish yesterday. You really didn't -'

'Yes I did!' Griselda interrupted. 'I wouldn't be any sort of friend if I left you on your own.'

Fenella gave Griselda a tight hug and then indicated the window. 'See all that out there? I think it's time we had a little fun!'

**XXXXX**

'This is the limit!' Constance hissed, bursting into the staffroom about half an hour later, dripping wet, hair half falling out of its elegant bun and completely livid.

'Something wrong?' Amelia asked, looking up from her book calmly.

'Miss Cackle, relaxing the rules in wake of a stressful event is one thing. Allowing girls to bewitch snowmen so that they try and get staff members to dance with them is quite another.'

'Is that what happened to you, then?' Imogen grinned.

'Not only that, the snowmen pelt you with snowballs if you don't want to dance, and are ably assisted by the rest of the girls!'

'They're misunderstood, snowmen! They only want to be friendly Constance! It's an honour to be asked to dance by a snowman!' Davina interjected. She was attempting to knit Paddington a full winter wardrobe – as well as the lopsided jumper, he now boasted a scarf, mittens and covers for his welly boots.

'Davina, it is not necessary to stand up for the rights of normally inanimate objects! Honestly, those two-'

'Which two?'

'Fenella and Griselda! When I came in the snowmen were being enchanted to waltz! I think they need lines and a detention at the very least. They're clever girls but they have to start putting it to the right use!'

'Maybe we should let them off, just this once. The snowmen are rather sweet!' Amelia chuckled, watching out of the window as the snowmen performing the Highland fling.

Constance stormed out of the staffroom in a state of high temper and deciding on the lines that the two fourth years were going to have to write. She was down in the front hall and had just decided on five hundred of _I will not enchant snowmen so that they dance, throw snowballs and attack innocent members of staff_ when somebody knocked on the front door.

'Yes?' Constance sighed, opening the door. Then she screamed.

**XXXXX**

The relatively peaceful calm in the castle was immediately shattered when the corridors filled with screams and slamming doors.

'What's going on?' Davina wailed. Amelia rose and stuck her head out of the door. What she saw made her heart jump into her mouth. In amongst the throngs of panicking girls, Mistress Broomhead was standing in the centre of the corridor and, most horrifyingly of all, a horizontal and unconscious Miss Hardbroom being floated ten feet off the ground. The girls were running about white faced, shocked and some were crying.

Imogen had come out to the door (Davina had made a dive for the cupboard), and sensing that no amount of shouting would stop the panic, blew as hard as she could on her whistle. That at least had the effect of stopping all activity.

'Girls,' Amelia began, trying desperately to remain calm, 'please go up to your rooms and stay there.' There was a huge scuffle as people ran up to the dormitories as quickly as they could. 'Mistress Broomhead, what on earth are you doing here and with Miss Hardbroom?'

Mistress Broomhead smiled, a smile full of pure hatred. 'I am here for Miss Feverview and Miss Blackwood. They have not completed their final test.'

'Your tests are barbaric! Get out of the school!' Imogen shouted. She might have been a non witch but she wouldn't hesitate to defend the school which was a second family to her.

Hecate laughed. 'My dear lady, I am head of the Witches' Guild and you are an outsider, in a world where you have no magical powers. I want those girls because they have to come away with me for the final test. They know all the answers so they cannot deliberately fail to avoid coming. It's merely a matter of seeing if they can cope with the BWC's curriculum.'

'And if they can't, they're drained of all their powers and shunned by the magical community?' Imogen scoffed. It was utterly barbaric, ruining students' lives before they were even out of their teens. Anyway, just because she wasn't magic didn't mean she was completely useless. In her opinion, Hecate Broomhead's shins were dying to be introduced to a hockey stick.

Snapping her fingers so that Constance lay hanging in the air, Mistress Broomhead strode over to Imogen, pushing Miss Cackle out of the way and grabbed the PE teacher by the throat. Imogen was strong but Hecate was stronger. She seemed to be muttering an ancient curse at her, glaring with eyes full of malice. Imogen couldn't breathe, the edges of her vision were going black . . .

And suddenly, she was in a crumpled heap on the floor. She was able to breathe again and most confusingly of all, Hecate Broomhead was lying unconscious on the floor, a huge book lying on its side next to her. Davina was standing in the doorway of the staffroom, inexplicably grinning.

'I didn't think that was going to work!' she beamed, skipping over and picking the book up. 'It's one of Constance's, so I'll just put it back before she wakes up! That's an old curse Mistress Broomhead used – haven't seen it used for years and the only thing to do is wait for it to wear off! We can put her in my cupboard till then, it's quite roomy.'

'What'll we do about the girls?' Amelia said, lowering Constance down to get her in through the door.

'We need to evacuate them, of course!' Davina continued, as though this were not obvious. 'Miss Drill, Mrs Tapioca, Frank can take them down into the village. If we're going to fight her, we want as many girls safe as possible.'

'Right,' said Imogen, slightly bewildered by the fact that Davina was not a gibbering wreck in a highly stressful situation. 'I'll go and get Frank and Mrs Tapioca. You two, get the girls ready to leave in ten minutes.'

'But what if she knows what we're up to?' Amelia hissed, worried by Mistress Broomhead's unconscious form, which was starting to move ever so slightly.

'Then we'd better move quickly then, hadn't we?'

**XXXXX**

'Girls?' Miss Bat stuck her head around Griselda's door. The two girls were dancing round the room and singing along to 'Spell Power'.

'Yes, Miss Bat?'

'Quickly! Pack some clothes and get down to the Great Hall in ten minutes!' All of Davina's earlier found calm was quickly ebbing away.

'Why? What's happened?' Fenella said.

'Mistress Broomhead – she attacked Miss Hardbroom and we're trying to get the school evacuated. Come on, quickly now!'

Griselda looked over at Fenella and in one second they both knew what they had to do.

'No.'

Davina whirled around, hair even more of a mess than it usually was. 'What did you say, Griselda?'

'By all means get the rest of the school out, but we aren't coming,' Griselda said. She was very pale, but resolute.

'We're going to try and stop Broomhead, and we can't put the rest of the school at risk,' Fenella said.

'But girls-'

'Everyone has an Achilles heel, Miss Bat, it's just a matter of finding hers.'

Suddenly, a fourth voice joined the conversation.

'We can discuss Mistress Broomhead's Achilles Heel later, Fenella, as soon as Miss Bat can explain why I came round on a bed in the stationery cupboard and was tucked up with Paddington Bear!'

Davina whirled around. 'Well, I thought you'd be more comfy in there than on the floor in the staffroom and I put Paddington in to keep you company!' she protested.

'Davina, go and supervise the school evacuation!' Constance half shouted. She whirled back round to look at the two fourth years, more beautiful, angry, terrifying and terrified than she'd ever looked before.

'Now you two listen to me!' she whispered urgently. 'Seeing as you are so keen to defeat Mistress Broomhead, we're going to defeat her together. All we need to do is find her weakness. So in light of this unusual situation, I will forget the dancing snowmen incident.'

'Thank you Miss Hardbroom. And we're sorry for organising the whole school 'broomstick and rubber band ball' hockey tournament,' Griselda said.

**XXXXX**

Ten minutes later, the trio were looking through books in the library (Fenella had seen fit to quickly grab a few of the more interesting volumes from her own room, lest Miss Hardbroom might figure out the connection between the two girls and the missing books) to see if they could find anything that might help them defeat Hecate Broomhead.

'Is she completely invincible, Miss Hardbroom?' Fenella said, eventually.

'Not completely, Fenella. Nobody is completely is invincible. It's simply a matter of finding her weakness. And one of her many flaws is her excessive vanity and arrogance.'

'Vanity, vanity – Fenny, I've got it! Miss Hardbroom, we'll be right back!' Griselda cried. She and Fenella jumped up, leaving a stunned potions mistress in their wake.

'Do you remember that thing up the stairs?' Griselda said, as they ran for the stairs.

'I thought it might be that! Hope it works. We'll have to check so we can teach it to Miss Hardbroom!' Fenella grinned.

'Teach what to Miss Hardbroom?' a harsh voice asked.

Fenella and Griselda jumped, clinging to each other as Hecate Broomhead appeared from the shadows.

**XXXXX**

**Scary biscuits, guys, scary biscuits. R&R!**


	8. Under Attack

**Still with us? Good! ABBA soundtrack for this chapter is 'Under Attack', especially the second verse, which is printed below for future reference. I promise this is not just ABBA promotion (although it is only two months until Mamma Mia comes to Glasgow!) but it does give a sense of the general atmosphere of the chapter. Oh, what the hell, it's ABBA. And it's not mine either.**

_This is getting crazy, I should tell you so_

_Really let my anger show_

_Persuade him that the answer to his questions is a definite no_

_(I'm kind of flattered, I suppose)_

_Guess I'm kind of flattered but I'm scared as well_

_Something like a magic spell_

_I hardly dare to think of what could happen_

_Where I'd be if I fell_

_**XXXXXX**_

The evacuation party had gone through Walker's Gate and were halfway through the forest path, when there was the most almighty bang from the castle they had just left behind. Girls screamed, Mrs Tapioca reciting the Rosary in Italian suddenly died away and Amelia whirled round to see the damage.

Whoever was inside (and there was no prizes for guessing who it was) had cast a spell which produced very powerful fumes that could fill the whole castle and easily overpower everyone. The noise had come from roughly the location of the fourth year dormitories, which could only mean one thing – Fenella and Griselda would be trapped.

'We can't let them do this on their own,' Imogen whispered quietly, momentarily leaving the second years.

'No. No we can't, Imogen, you're quite right,' Amelia said, decisively. She looked at the terrified girls before her, and then back at the castle which had become their home. Then, making a decision, she stood rather unsteadily on top of the stile, and called for silence.

'Now, listen, girls, there's been a slight change of plan. . . '

**XXXXX**

'Tell Miss Hardbroom what, girls?' Hecate demanded. Neither girl was capable of speaking. They simply stood in utter terror together, backed into one of the alcoves that were often found in this corridor.

'If you won't tell me, I'll find out for myself!' She raised her hand in the air, and took a deep breath when Fenella shot forward, pushing Griselda into Mistress Broomhead and they both fell to the floor. Griselda immediately jumped back up (taking care to kick the older witch in the shins as she did so) and they raced around the corner into Fenella's room, just as there was a huge bang and the whole castle shook, knocking Fenella onto the bed, Griselda back onto the floor, and all the books off their shelves.

'I'm assuming this wasn't part of the plan, Fenny?' Griselda said, raising an eyebrow as she picked up a few volumes.

'Never mind, it makes things easier! Quick, find that book that Sybil and Clarice used to make their lamp!'

During the week when Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom were away with Mildred's class to Mr Rowan-Webb's place the previous year, Sybil and Clarice (then first years) had used the forbidden book of spells and charms of the Orient to make a magic lamp which had almost torn the school apart. The book had been kept in Fenella's room before but since then, it had been kept under lock and key in a box on the shelf – it was too much of a risk to have it lying around.

'Here we are!' Griselda threw the small glittery orange book over to the bed, but then stopped and sniffed the air. 'What's that smell?'

'Smells like-' Fenella started, but stopped when she saw the yellowy green fumes drifting in under the door. 'Oh my God!'

'You find the spell, I'll deal with everything else!' Griselda choked, pulling her polo neck jumper up over her nose and mouth. She dragged the blankets and pillows off the bed and shoved them up against the door to block the gas out, and began gathering the more forbidden items up and stuffed them in the wardrobe. Fenella rummaged in her drawer for a bandanna, and tied it over her face, before flicking through the old volume as fast as she could. Finding the page she was looking for, she muttered to herself, memorising the incantation, before shoving the book into the wardrobe.

'We...have to...get...out!' Griselda choked – the pillows had only stopped the gas from coming in for a short time. She was feeling dizzy and light headed.

Fenella pushed the window open, allowing slightly more fresh air into the room and dragged Griselda over, relishing being able to breathe slightly easier.

'Hey, look!' she said, pointing at the huge icy slide which had manifested itself earlier.

'Are you mad, Fenny? It's a six foot drop!' Griselda looked apprehensive.

'Well, we can stay in here and suffocate if you like?'

Fenella hauled herself up onto the windowsill and looked nervously down. Griselda was right – it was a huge drop down to the slide. But the alternative was staying in the room and potentially suffocating.

'I'll jump when you get on the slide,' Griselda said quietly. She had a look in her eyes that Fenella had never seen before but she was determined.

'Here goes nothing,' Fenella said from her perch on the window ledge. She said a silent prayer and then pushed herself forward. The six foot fall from the window ledge seemed to take a lifetime and then there was the steep descent down the slide. She felt as if she was going to be hurled off onto the ground below, such was her speed; the ice was soaking through her jumper and jeans and screams from above told her Griselda wasn't far behind. Shooting down the last two feet like a supercharged bullet, she rolled off to the side and lay in the snow for a minute, trying to get her breath back.

Griselda's voice came from six feet to her right. 'I am never going on a rollercoaster again!'

'Come on, we'd better get going! HB will kill us!' Fenella groaned. The two girls got up, keen to get back in the (relative) warmth of the castle – even though it was usually cold and the draughts were never ending it was at least marginally warmer than outside.

In through the main door, round a corner, up the stairs, through two corridors and into the Great Hall. Fenella stopped dead and Griselda slammed into the back of her.

'OW! Fen, what the hell-'

But she was cut off by the rather unexpected sight of the full school in the Great Hall, Miss Hardbroom up on the platform and Hecate Broomhead in the middle of the room. If the teachers had suddenly announced they were going to perform for Children in Need singing the Monkees' greatest hits, Fenella and Griselda could not have been more surprised.

'Come forward, girls,' Hecate boomed, interrupting Amelia's stuttered explanation about how they had changed the evacuation plan. Nervously, the two girls walked forward, and almost as soon as they did, a huge bubble like shield fell, cutting Mistress Broomhead and the two of them off from the rest of the school. Shouts of protests rose from everyone else but naturally, Hecate took absolutely no notice.

'Have you never wondered, girls, why exactly I want you to come to the Broomhead College of Witchraft?'

'Because you're an arrogant old bat?' Fenella suggested.

'And you want to use us for some horrendous experiment?' Griselda added.

Many girls burst out laughing, and even Miss Hardbroom's lips were twitching.

'SILENCE!'

With a loud bang, Fenella and Griselda were blasted back to the very edge of the bubble. The students were shouting at Hecate through the bubble and Amelia was beside herself with fury. 'How dare you cast curses at students?'

'When are your birthdays girls?' Mistress Broomhead said, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell.

'I'm May 20th, she's June 6th,' Fenella said, struggling to her feet.

'You both fall under the star sign Gemini – the twins. Have you never wondered why you are so similar? Both very intelligent? Both with the same interests? Two absolutely inseparable girls.'

'_Stellae Sorores,'_ Constance gasped, hands flying to her face. Amelia and Davina looked astounded and shocked. 'How could we have missed it all this time?'

'Exactly,' Hecate said smugly. '_Stellae Sorores_ – Star Sisters! Star Sisters are very rare but not unheard of. It gives the two women involved power of epic proportions. And any Star Sisters are traditionally taught at Broomhead College of Witchcraft!'

_That's it! _Griselda realised. _It's all about power!_

'Well, we're breaking with tradition!' she shouted, sounding much braver than she felt.

'We are going to Weirdsister!' Fenella agreed, to enormous cheers from the student body.

Hecate suddenly drew herself up to her full height, her face contorting with hatred and rage, and sparks flying from her fingers. The watching third and fourth years instinctively stepped in front of the first years, so as to provide protection should the shield fail. She reminded Fenella of Maleficent turning into the dragon in the _Sleeping Beauty _film.

'You'll be coming to my school if I have to destroy this castle to get you there!' she bellowed. The temporary atmosphere of hope, the feeling that it might be all right, was immediately replaced by a sense of total fear. The woman was completely relentless, and obviously meant what she said. If she planned to carry out what she had said, there was an worryingly high chance that not everyone would make it out alive.

'Do your worst then! We aren't going down without a fight!' Fenella said. She looked over to Griselda, who nodded. As long as they stuck together, they were going to be all right.

'Indeed,' came Miss Hardbroom's voice from outside of the bubble. 'Well, girls, I'm afraid you are going to have to put up with my assistance.' The two girls grinned at their potions teacher. 'Miss Hardbroom, we hereby apologise for every bout of rule breaking we've ever done!' they chorused.

Hecate chuckled. 'All right then.' She snapped her fingers and Constance was suddenly inside the bubble. 'Two apprentice witches, Star Sisters or no and a witch who couldn't cast a spell at me if she was paid to, against the head of the Witches' Guild. Fine. Let the battle begin!'

**XXXXX**

**Reviews make for a happy Marshmallow! *Skips away singing 'Look Out (Here Comes Tomorrow)***


	9. Battlefield

**Before we get started on this chapter, major thanks and cookies have to go to NextChristineDaae both for the idea for this chapter, the Prime Of Miss Jean Brodie script and lots of support along the way. Thank you so much!**

**XXXXX**

The event which followed was one which went down in Cackle's history. The fight had moved out to the freezing courtyard, and the protective bubble surrounding Fenella, Griselda and Miss Hardbroom had gone with them. The rest of the students were standing around the bubble at the very edge of the courtyard. The protective bubble was both good (it meant that the rest of the school was less likely to get hurt) and bad (it meant that spells could easily ricochet off the dome). The students, well aware that there was quite a lot at stake, were crowding around the barrier as though at a football match, with some of the smaller girls sitting on the taller ones' shoulders. Miss Bat was nervously picking at her fingerless gloves, until it looked like they were going to unravel and clutching Paddington to her. Miss Drill was silently cheering on the Cackles' trio just as though they were the school netball team and Miss Cackle was frowning at the barrier.

'Are you alright, Miss Cackle?' a voice came from her left. Mildred Hubble was looking concernedly at her.

'I'm fine, thank you Mildred,' the headmistress smiled tiredly. _Just wondering how two students and a teacher are going to defeat a witch who is ruthless to a horrendous point and would quite easily kill someone._

In the centre, Mistress Broomhead drew a shimmering red line (the exact colour of blood, Griselda realised) between herself and the Cackles' trio, so they each had half of the circle to move in. Fair though that might seem, it was considerably less when there were three people in one half.

Fenella looked pretty calm, though her hands shook as she moved her bandanna from her neck to her hair. Griselda didn't bother attempting to hide how scared she was and Constance just looked like she usually did.

'Girls,' she hissed, drawing them over. 'This goes against everything I've ever said to a Cackle's Academy pupil, but have every attacking spell you ever know ready to use.'

What felt like a electric shock hit the three of them and blasted them apart, Griselda straight backwards and Constance and Fenella to either side. There were crowds of 'Foul!', 'Cheat' and even the occasional 'Red Card! Send her off!' from Miss Bat, who seemed to have recovered from her earlier terror and was, for some reason, lying on her stomach on the very top of the bubble so as to get a bird's eye view of the match.

Mentally cursing Hecate, Fenella rolled up to her feet, quickly checking that the others were OK, before shooting the spell that she had used to turn Baz and Gaz into statues, which just missed Hecate. There were a few more spells came flying past from both sides, so quickly that it was impossible to tell who had cast them.

Then suddenly Fenella felt herself totally unable to move. It was as though she had been turned into a statue, and she couldn't move an inch. There was no sound, either, as though someone had hit a mute button. She recognised this spell – it was the one that she had just shot at Hecate, which had missed. Or rather, a more advanced and much more cruel variation of it – she had been turned into ice. She felt cold, all the way through to her muscles and bones. In a panic she tried to move her fingers but it wasn't happening – she was completely paralysed and for the first time since the battle began she took a good look at the woman responsible for all this. What she saw absolutely terrified her.

Hecate Broomhead's face did not look human – because she was so furious that her features were hideously contorted, it looked like she was made of wax. Her hair looked as though it were standing on end and her eyes were slits, full of more hatred and loathing than they would have thought possible.

Constance and Griselda happened to turn round at that moment and see Fenella in her icy statue form. Constance appeared to shout something which made the watching students look stunned, and which Fenella was sorry she missed and Griselda, who looked horrified and was sporting a nasty cut to her forehead, was busy muttering a reversal spell. In a moment she was free from her icy imprisonment and Griselda was rubbing her arms trying desperately to warm her up.

'Are you OK?' she implored, still looking somewhat scared.

'I'm fine, Gris, honestly,' Fenella smiled nervously at her friend to try and reassure her. 'By the way, what did HB call Mistress Broomhead?'

Griselda beamed, and leaned forward to whisper it in her ear. Fenella gasped and then burst out laughing. 'No way!'

A jet of purple light shot over their heads and they turned round to see a battle of epic proportions going on between the two teachers. Both were sending curses and spells at high speed and both looked determined to fight to the death.

'You will never touch our students again!' Constance yelled, sending a few curses at her former tutor, to enormous cheers from the watching population.

'And what happens when they leave, with no Constance there to protect them?' Hecate taunted, dodging all the curses and sending a few of her own back. 'They're all alone! But when those two come to the BCW, they'll be under my personal tutelage.'

That was enough for Fenella and Griselda to start sending every spell they knew at her, while Constance stepped her spell casting up several degrees. The football match atmosphere had vanished outside the dome. This was getting dangerous. Some of the first years were crying and the teachers looked downright worried. There were some of the girls desperate to go in and help out. Fenella and Griselda were the eyes and ears of the institution – they seemed to know just about everything and took the greatest pleasure in making sure life at the Academy wasn't too dreary. They had helped out so many pupils over their time and now people were determined to repay them.

Suddenly, Hecate Broomhead had vanished, replaced with a small guinea pig. The three fighting witches looked around, all unsure who cast the spell.

'She makes a better guinea pig than a witch, doesn't she?' Griselda observed, coming as close to the red line as she dared to examine the squeaking little animal.

'I see all your practicing on each other in first year didn't go completely to waste,' Constance remarked, looking at the guinea pig with a mixture of satisfaction and pride. Fenella grinned. During their first week, they had decided to practice their animal transformations on each other, allowing them freedom to run about the school and eventually getting into quite a lot of trouble. It was then that the Cackle's staff realised that while Fenella Feverview and Griselda Blackwood were very clever, they were also easily bored by what they considered too basic spell work, and it was this boredom that often got them in trouble.

Suddenly, with a roar like a dragon, the guinea pig turned back into a furious Hecate Broomhead. Griselda immediately ran backwards to where Fenella and Constance were.

'How dare you?' Hecate roared. She was in the process of casting a spell as she did so, with black sparks emitting from her fingers, and then she shot a jet of black light at the trio. Constance tried in vain to put up a shield but Hecate was far too quick – the shield manifested just as the jet of shimmering, transparent black light caught her full on the stomach. She was blasted back against the very edge of the protective dome separating them from the rest of the school, and fell to the ground, unmoving. As if that were not bad enough, the curse broke through the dome, and collided with Kilda's Peak directly above them.

The overhanging tower fell down towards the ground, missing a group of students at the back of the group by inches and, to the horror of all the watchers, there was a loud explosion from the building – the academic wing of the school and the great hall had been reduced to nothing more than a smoking pile of rubble.

Inside the bubble, the shield cast by Miss Hardbroom would give Fenella and Griselda about three minutes worth of protection – but it hadn't been enough to help Miss Hardbroom, who was now lying unconscious at the edge of the shield, at Miss Drill's feet. They could see it was horrendous for the school, just as it was for them, to have their normally formidable, indefatigable and terrifying potions mistress lying in a crumpled heap.

'Grizzy, what are we going to do?' Fenella sobbed, catching sight of the school, and what three minutes before had been a building as to the few smoldering bricks that made up its current state.

Griselda crouched down next to the unconscious witch and her sobbing best friend. She was willing herself not to break down and cry. Then, she had an idea. It was risky and it was a long shot, but it might just work.

'Fenny, do you remember the third time that we blew up the potions lab in second year and Miss Hardbroom made us copy out The Witches' Code and recite it in assembly?'

In spite of herself, Fenella chuckled. Out of the twenty three times they had blown up a classroom in their time at the school, that one was still their favourite. It was the effect of adding bicarbonate of soda and vinegar to a Plant Growth Potion that made the plants take over the potions lab and then immediately blow up. Unfortunately, Miss Hardbroom didn't believe that it was an 'accident'.

'Do you remember that bit about duelling?'

'Which bit?'

'The bit about two on one duels? The combined power of two less experienced witches can overthrow a more experience witch if they cast the exact same spell at the exact same time. If we do that we can get rid of that cow!'

'Yeah, but what spell? She knows more than we do!'

The two thought for a minute, and then Fenella spoke again.

'Do you remember the lamp spell in that Oriental book?'

Griselda stared at her. 'You sure, Fenny? That lasts for ages, that one.'

'Gris, think of what she's done to us. To HB. To the other people she's taught. I memorised the incantation before we jumped out of the window.'

Griselda looked at the scars on her arms, and stiffened her resolve. 'Right.'

Hecate's mirthless voice cut through the shield – they only had thirty more seconds.

'Come on then, Star Sisters! Let's see you try and defend your precious academy! Lambs to the slaughter!'

Fenella looked at Griselda. Griselda looked at Fenella. Then, in voices that nobody had ever heard them use before, dark and full of pain and determination, they began chanting:

_'Luminarum lux, semper irretitus, malus abstenit, cruciatus perfectus_!' they screamed together. The girls both knew that this was such a difficult spell because they had to keep focus until the magic was done. Orange light shot out from their fingers, with such force that their hands were vibrating. Hecate knew immediately what was happening, but she also knew that there was no spell in the world that would stop it. She yelled as her body was enveloped in orange smoke, swirling and turning, as though she were a spinning top. The smoke grew higher and higher, the watchers gasped and Hecate raged and screamed and tried cursing the girls.

'Keep going, Fenny!' Griselda screamed, as the light was whooshing and roaring from her fingers.

'I don't know if I can, Grizzy!' Fenella screamed back – her whole body was shaking and she felt as though she might faint at any minute.

Suddenly, they were both blasted back beside Miss Hardbroom, who came round just as the spell finished. She turned round to speak to Fenella and Griselda, only to find that they were both unconscious. Hecate was gone. In her place was a small golden lamp.

**XXXXX**

'Gris? You awake?'

It was the next afternoon, and for the second day in a row, the school was rising late. Miss Hardbroom had warned that they were not to get used to it, but most of the school took advantage of the chance for a long lie. Fenella had just woken up and gone to see if Griselda was up yet.

'Well, I am now!' came a muffled voice from the bed.

'Excellent!' Fenella leaped across the room to the bed and jumped on it. Griselda protested with a groan but knew it was no use. Instead, she pulled herself up to a sitting position and looked over at Fenella, who was sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed with a huge grin. Out of the two of them, she was always much better at getting up in the morning.

'How are you?' Griselda asked.

Fenella stopped smiling. 'I'm. . . OK,' she said, feigning nonchalance, although Griselda could see that she was still scarred by the events of the last two days. They had been put through tougher tests than they ever had in their lives. She felt tears forming in her eyes and forced them to go away. 'I just don't want to talk about it ever again.'

'What happened to Broomhead?' Griselda yawned.

Fenella had briefly come round on the snowy Cackle's courtyard, witnessed Broomhead's fate, seen the state of the building, heard Miss Hardbroom say 'And just where did you find that spell, Fenella Feverview?' and then passed out again.

'From what I heard, HB vanished the lamp. Where it ended up I do not know. Hopefully the dustbin.'

'I still don't feel right about it,' Griselda mumbled. 'I know she was evil but still.'

The pair of them sighed. Evil as Hecate Broomhead had been, they did feel slightly sorry for her.

'I hate to admit it, Grizzy, but in the end it was her or us,' Fenella sighed, putting a hand on Griselda's arm by way of trying to administer a small form of comfort. Then she saw the scars from the exploding clock. 'I'd forgotten she set that clock on us. Seems like a holiday compared to everything else.'

'Fen?' Griselda was looking at the bed clothes, her face hidden by a curtain of hair.

'Hm? Gris, what's up?'

'Just . . . I'm really glad we didn't give in. Even if it meant being put through hell and back. And . . . thanks just for sticking together with me and everything. It would have been so easy to give in.'

Fenella knew what she meant. For the last three days it felt like they were being swallowed up by the darkness and there were so many times when they felt like it would have been easier to give up and fall into the abyss.

'No problem, Gris. And the same to you.' She pulled her best friend into a tight hug.

At the sound of a loud crash and even louder shouting, the pair bounced off the bed and went over to the window, where they had a direct view of the repairing of the middle section of the school. Seeing the building that had become home to them destroyed was hard on everyone and they were glad that it was being repaired. Because it was such a huge job, it was not without its difficulties. Aside from various lesser mishaps, there was also Miss Bat conducting a ballet masterclass with the snowmen, several girls trying out the slide that they had used to escape Mistress Broomhead, Frank Blossom was busy going round the yard and loading up all the scattered bricks into a wheelbarrow and dropping them in the midst of the fixing operations (involving all the third and fourth years) and of course, there were snowball fights. Miss Hardbroom's height hardly helped her in these matters – being taller meant it was harder to duck. The idea occurred to both of them at the same moment.

**XXXXX**

'How are they?' Amelia asked. It was later that afternoon in the staffroom.

'If you mean Fenella and Griselda, they were fine enough that there were snow animals gallivanting about the courtyard and distracting us all,' Constance sniffed.

Amelia raised an eyebrow.

Constance sighed, her expression softening. 'When I spoke to them this afternoon, they seemed all right. The cuts and bruises will heal up – they always do. It's the emotional scars that will take the time.'

The silence hung portentously in the room for a minute, before Imogen remembered something. 'What happened to Mistress Broomhead and her lamp?'

'Imogen, if anyone outside of this room finds out what happened to it, the consequences will be dire for all of us. Suffice it to say that we will not be hearing from Hecate Broomhead for a very long time, and perhaps never again. I asked them where they got that spell, but they just said that they had come across it in an old book years ago,' Constance said smugly.

'And a good job too,' Davina said from the other end of the table. 'We had enough bother with magic lamps when you were...'

She trailed off. Amelia and Constance were looking at her confusedly and Imogen was mouthing at her to be quiet.

'When we were what?' Constance asked.

'If you'll excuse me a moment, ladies, I've just realised I'm on library duty today!' Davina squeaked, bolting from the room. Undaunted, Constance turned her attention to the PE teacher.

'Is there something you're not telling us, Imogen?'

'No! Anyway, I've just remembered that I meant to tidy out the storeroom today and I need to go and do that!'

Repressing a sigh as Imogen vanished out of the door, Constance stood up. 'If you'll excuse me Amelia, somebody has to tell Davina that library duties are not done at the weekend.'

Walking along to the library, Constance's attention was drawn to the fact that her own classroom door was open. And that there was a snow parrot sitting on her desk.

Knowing exactly who had put it there, she walked over to it. It was carrying a piece of paper, which it dropped into her hand, before flying out of the open window.

_Dear Miss Hardbroom_

_Thank you. For everything._

**XXXXX**

Celebrating their freedom (and the fact that next week of term was the last) the two fourth years were busy up in Griselda's room dancing around and singing to 'Wannabe.

'What is this infernal racket?' came a very familiar voice, which made both girls stop dancing and dive to turn the cassette player off.

'Hello, Miss Hardbroom,' Fenella said, smiling charmingly.

'Did you get our message?' Griselda added.

'I did. And I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want is for that infernal cacophony to be stopped right this instant,' the teacher replied.

'Yes, Miss,' they chorused, both looking as if they were trying not to smile.

'Now that that absurd noise is finished, I want to tell you girls that I am very proud of the way you coped with all the tasks yesterday. Hecate Broomhead has destroyed more advanced witches than you too with similar tasks.'

'Will she be trapped in that lamp forever, Miss Hardbroom?'

'Not forever, Griselda, but long enough that we will all have departed the mortal coil long before there is even the remotest possibility that she will be able to be freed.'

'That's a relief,' Fenella sighed.

'Well done, girls. And thank you,' Constance smiled at the two girls. 'But that does not mean that you can start that music again the second I go out of the room.'

'No, Miss.'

Constance folded her arms and vanished.

'!' Fenella gabbled, looking at her watch. 'It's ten seconds after she left, so we can put it back on!'

**XXXXX**

**Only one more chapter left! Go on, leave a review. Ah, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on...**

**No, seriously. I've had a rotten day, I now hate being a class rep and I am really angry. Reviews will cheer me up no end :-)**


	10. Epilogue

**Last chapter! Hope you all enjoy it. And for the last time in this fic, the Worst Witch franchise belongs to Jill Murphy. She merely lets me borrow the characters on occasion.**

**To clarify the ages, I see girls coming to Cackles at twelve and leaving at sixteen, meaning they go to university at sixteen and leave at twenty two. A bit like the Scottish system but in reverse.**

**And a shameless fic plugging alert – my first Fenny and Gris story, 'Moving On' can be slotted into the gap between chapters nine and ten.**

**XXXXX**

_**Six years later**_

The summer sun beat down on the campus of Weirdsister College. Outside the massive, ornate chapel, the one hundred and thirty five students graduating that day whispered and giggled excitedly as they shivered slightly in their thin graduation robes. Despite the sunshine, it was one of those June days when the early morning freshness can almost be mistaken for cold before the sun really begins to warm up.

'Last time, Fenny,' Griselda murmured, looking over the gardens spreading out in front of the chapel. She could hardly believe it. Six years at the crème de la crème of magical education had flown by and now was the day that the graduates were fully getting launched on the world. Six years of lectures, labs, practicals, fun, sports, hard work, and a few explosions for good measure had melted away.

Fenella didn't answer at first, letting the memories wash over her, both of the last six years and their Cackle's Academy graduations, which some days seemed like a lifetime ago and some days seemed like they had just accepted their Witches' Higher Certificates from Miss Cackle, and snuck away from the potions lab after feeding the plants a magical mixture, which over time, would cause them to grow and take over the lab, resulting in a very cross Miss Hardbroom when she returned from the summer holiday.

Neither girl had really spoken of the ghastly trials Hecate Broomhead had put them through, so many years ago. It had taken some time to shake off the terrible scars that the experience had left them with, but they had never spoken of it to anyone since they had left school. However, Miss Hardbroom's assurance that their lamp spell would keep her trapped for many years to come was somewhat reassuring, even if they had been given 200 lines of _Even though they did save the school, I will not keep dangerous and forbidden spell books in my bedroom_.

Both girls had changed somewhat since they had arrived at Weirdsister. Fenella had added a few purple streaks to her dark hair, while Griselda had let her blonde mane grow until it hung straight down to her waist. Wearing smart but pretty dresses, and killer heels, combined with their black graduation robes, they looked every inch the sophisticated and chic university graduates. They were to receive their honours degrees in charms and potions with distinctions that morning, before going to Cackles to see the teachers again.

Although no current student had attended at the same time they had, their legacy had never waned and they had become something akin to urban legends to the girls, who all took delight in discovering the secrets of the castles, in the tantalising trail of clues they had left behind – after all, they couldn't let life at the castle get too dreary. On the other side of the staffroom door, a friend of Miss Cackle's at Weirdsister kept the teachers updated. Their instant and consistent success had surprised nobody. Equally unsurprising were their regular attempts to push their discoveries of magic just a bit further, which often resulted in something blowing up, or, on one memorable occasion during their third year, a fully grown dragon being accidentally set loose in the college. Miss Hardbroom often remarked that they were obviously trying to break their own record for blowing things up – in their Cackle's careers, they had blown up a classroom a grand total of thirty six times.

Fenella chuckled as she remembered their last legacy to the castle.

'I wonder how many times we'll blow things up when we're teaching,' she mused cheerfully.

As they had intended from so many years ago, they were going into teaching. They were in the process of setting their own school up and would start after the summer holidays. Their experience of teaching the staff their anti gunge potion had only confirmed that it was what they were meant to do.

'Well, we won't be short of stuff to teach them,' Griselda agreed, shaking her hair back from her face.' 'We'll have the anti gunge potion.'

'And the cosmetics.'

'And the time machine.'

'And the dance routines.'

'HB's going to have a fit when we tell her. I mean, we're not going to be the most conventional school ever, are we?'

Fenella smiled again. 'We could always leave out the… _extracurricular_ stuff, and focus on the more traditional stuff. Speaking of which, have you got everything we need for this afternoon?'

They were whispering and giggling when the line started to move forward into the chapel, so the graduation could begin. They hastily sobered up (but not by much as they imagined Miss Hardbroom's face when they put their plan to lead the current students to another secret into action) as the line snaked forward to the seats in the front row, and they took another step on the journey that had begun at Cackles' Academy ten years before.

**XXXXX**

**Well, I for one am rather sad that's all over! And there's another little author's note so do bear with me a minute while I go into English Lit mode. **

**A character like Hecate Broomhead, while being a total horror for the Cackle's clan, is a godsend to fanficcers because she has so much potential – why is she so evil? As I said earlier, there are many excellent Broomhead stories circling the fandom, and they are all really good. But during the big snowfall last winter, an image of Fenella crying popped into my head, and I decided to explore another avenue of potential. We know how Broomhead would treat a student like Mildred, who she regards as the very worst – but what about the other end of the scale, the very best? Fenny and Gris have (up to a point) seemed like mini-HBs in terms of skill and talent. Surely they wouldn't go unnoticed for long? She seems to be a bit of a star collector, so no doubt she would have had plans for them.**

**This was the first multi-chapter story I've written for several years and possibly the darkest thing I've ever done so I really didn't know how it would turn out. So, to everyone who has read, reviewed and put up with more Latin and ABBA than one would expect in this fandom, and especially to NCD who has faithfully read and reviewed and given an idea or two from the very beginning, **_**merci beaucoup!**_


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